


Imposter

by nouseforaname



Series: Recovery Mode [8]
Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: F/F, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:15:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25009813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nouseforaname/pseuds/nouseforaname
Summary: It's the first Christmas after the worst year of Dom's life, and she can't believe it's real.
Relationships: Darlene Alderson/Dominique DiPierro
Series: Recovery Mode [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1625374
Comments: 6
Kudos: 49





	Imposter

If you asked Dom a year ago where she thought she’d end up now, she’d probably tell you one of two things: Dead, or dying.

She definitely wouldn’t tell you _Spending Christmas Eve sitting in Elliot Alderson’s apartment watching him argue with his sister over who gets to shake the bag of popcorn and M &Ms._

“You did it last time.” Darlene rolls her eyes.

“No I didn’t.” Elliot shoots back as he snatches the bag from her.

“How the hell would you know? You have the world’s shittiest memory.” Darlene grabs the bag back and storms over to the couch, where Dom is sitting with Flipper curled up in her lap.

“You can’t use that excuse _every_ time.” Elliot frowns. “I should do it anyway. I’m not gonna see you guys tomorrow.”

Darlene plops down next to the redhead and crosses one leg over the other. “Not my problem.”

“You definitely shook it last time.” Dom bravely decides to cut in, throwing an arm around Darlene’s shoulders just as she turns to glare at her.

“What?” She’s aghast. “No, it was Elliot.”

“I believe Dom.” He shrugs.

“You _always_ believe Dom.” Darlene growls. “Whatever happened to _family first?”_

Elliot furrows his brow. “We’ve never said that before.”

“We didn’t have to! It was _implied!”_

“Dom’s family.” Elliot throws the redhead a small smile, who gratefully returns it with a sheepish one of her own. “Well, to me she is.”

“Can’t really argue with that.” Dom nonchalantly adds, which prompts Darlene to roll her eyes a second time.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” She heaves a dramatic sigh as Elliot approaches her, stubbornly turning away as he takes the bag and sits next to her. He looks pretty proud of himself, holding the bag with both hands and grinning at his prize. Darlene is still scowling, and Dom can’t help but chuckle and shake her head in amusement. Honestly, it’s refreshing to see them fight; they can’t truly be siblings if they get along _too_ well.

“So,” Dom turns her head towards Elliot as she scratches the spot behind Flipper’s ears, smiling when the pup yawns and rolls over. “You said you were going to a friend’s place, right?”

Elliot vigorously shakes the bag of popcorn; next to him, Darlene is glowering at him out of the corner of her eye. “Yeah.”

Darlene snorts. “A _friend?”_

“Don’t be a jerk.” Dom chastises, and Darlene responds by shaking her head and defiantly crossing her arms.

Elliot stretches his arm across Darlene so he can offer Dom some food; his sister’s eyes angrily track Dom’s hand as she happily reaches in to grab a fistful of popcorn and M&Ms. “His name is Bill. Works at Steel Mountain.”

“How the hell do you know anyone from Steel Mountain?” Darlene quirks an eyebrow at him.

Elliot’s expression suddenly becomes forlorn. “Remember when Mobley, Romero, and I went there to…” He quickly turns to Dom, who’s skeptically staring back. “Well, we were there to do something illegal.”

There’s a complete lack of surprise to Dom’s expression and tone. “I know all about it. I was part of the investigation.”

“I needed access to a certain part of the building and he had the credentials to get me there, so I did what I felt was necessary.” Elliot heaves a sigh. “I had to break him down, pull him apart piece by piece, until he felt like had no choice but to do whatever I told him to.” He shakes his head. “I felt like shit the entire time. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I’ve been thinking about him a lot recently and how he’s been doing. I wondered if he was okay, and at some point I guess I felt like I needed to make it up to him somehow. He didn’t deserve the things I said to him that day. He’s one of the few good people left in this world.”

“What did you say to him?” Dom’s voice is soft. Darlene reaches for the bag, seemingly disinterested; she most likely heard this story before.

“A lot of terrible shit. None of it’s worth repeating.” Elliot shrugs. “I reached out to him and was basically gonna throw myself down on my knees and tell him how sorry I was, but then he told me he watched my story on the news, and how it got him to realize what my real intentions were that day.” He chuckles again, shaking his head in disbelief. “He said he forgave me because he realized that I was just trying to make the world a better place, and in order for me to do that I had to use him first. He said he understood where I was coming from, and that he couldn’t be mad at me for it. I couldn’t believe it at first.”

“Saint Bill.” Darlene mutters through a mouthful of popcorn as she reaches for the remote.

“So I asked him what he was doing for the holidays, and when he said he had no plans or anyone to spend it with, I offered to hang out with him.” Elliot’s expression gradually begins to brighten. “No one deserves to be alone on Christmas. Especially him.”

“That’s really kind of you, Elliot.” Dom smiles.

“Bill was to Elliot what you were to me.” Darlene interrupts; she tosses a kernel up in the air and catches it with her mouth.

Dom scoffs. “Except that Elliot successfully used Bill. You tried to use me and you failed - you failed _hard.”_

“Not really.” Darlene grins. “I got the girl in the end, didn’t I?”

A bright pink blush abruptly stains Dom’s cheeks, and she fruitlessly tries to hide it with a shaky laugh. “Are we just going to forget about all the shit that happened _before_ you got the girl?”

Darlene shrugs. “Sometimes it’s more about the destination than the journey.”

Dom wants to make a quip about how it’s _never_ about the destination and that’s how they ended up together in the first place, but she wisely chooses to shift the subject back to Elliot. “Anyways, my mom is heartbroken that you won’t be there, but she understands. I’ll try and save a slice of pecan pie for you.”

Elliot chuckles. “Thanks. Tell her I said hi and that I’ll come visit soon.”

“Not if I steal the last slice of pie first.” Darlene finally hits play, and Home Alone 2 fades into the screen in front of them.

Dom shakes her head, but she eventually relaxes into her seat and tightens her arm around Darlene, pressing her cheek against the side of her head. Darlene nestles against her as she stuffs her mouth with more food. Elliot leans back, reaching into the bag every now and then. Flipper is contentedly snoring in Dom’s lap.

So yeah, Dom From One Year Ago probably wouldn’t be able to tell you that this is where she ends up, because back then she had no idea she would even make it this far - and even if she did, never in her wildest dreams would she think she’d end up in her former suspect’s, now coworker’s apartment, snuggled up with his sister - who also happens to be a former suspect - watching old movies together. If you told her all of this, she would’ve laughed in your face. She would’ve told you to get out of here.

She would’ve said you were crazy.

* * *

Dom wakes up early on Christmas morning in Darlene’s bedroom. She blinks rapidly as her eyes adjust to the sudden influx of light; it really shouldn’t be this bright right now, but when she rolls on her side and finally focuses on what’s past the frost encrusted window, she finally realizes why.

It’s snowing.

She hasn’t seen a white Christmas in years. The fact that it’s happening now, a year after the shittiest Christmas of her life, has to be some sort of sign, and she usually isn’t one to believe in stuff like that.

Deciding that she doesn’t want to revel in the moment all by herself, she rolls again, this time facing the opposite side, and lifts her upper body up so she can press her cheek against Darlene’s.

She stirs, groaning as she lazily raises a hand with her eyes still closed, smacking her palm against Dom’s face. “Why.” Darlene croaks, feebly trying to push the snickering redhead off of her. “Damn, Dom - get off. It’s too early for this.”

Dom pries her hand off her face, nuzzling her nose against her temple as Darlene continues to whine in protest. “Merry Christmas, asshole.” She shifts a little, puckering her lips against the spot behind her ear in a soft, lingering kiss.

“You could’ve waited until I woke up on my own to tell me that.” Darlene shoves her away and pulls the covers over her unkempt head.

Dom used to freak out whenever her previous partners pulled any sort of romantic gesture on her, grand or subtle - so now that she’s finally with someone who makes her _want_ to be openly affectionate and romantic, there’s a strange irony in knowing that this same someone makes it incredibly difficult to do so.

She yanks the covers away, smirking when Darlene groans again, rolling on her back and throwing an arm over her eyes. “What the hell, Dom-”

“Look.” She sits up, throws one leg over Darlene so that she’s straddling her hips, and jerks her head towards the window. “It’s snowing.”

“So?”

“When’s the last time it actually snowed on Christmas? C’mon, I know a part of you wants to see this.”

Darlene lets out an indignant huff; her forearm is still draped over the top half of her face. “I’m sure the snow will still be there later.”

Normally this would dampen the mood, but hell - it’s Christmas, and there isn’t a Whiterose or a Dark Army to be afraid of. There aren’t any Irvings or Janices to worry about, no looming paranoia or creeping sense of doom. After slugging through all of that last year, there’s absolutely nothing that can spoil her holiday spirit now.

Dom runs a hand through her hair as she turns to gaze out the window once more. The snow is gracefully fluttering downwards in large white puffs; it’s something out of a Christmas card. She thinks about how, exactly one year ago, she was in the middle of nowhere upstate, investigating the remnants of a burnt van, and how everything quickly spiralled out of control after that.

She looks back at Darlene, who seemingly fell back asleep. It’s strange how different things are now. She can still remember the intense hatred that surged through her during those dark winter months, how her blood boiled every time her face involuntarily flashed across her memory - and that happened a lot more than she wants to admit. She recalls how she wanted nothing more than to scrub the memory of her clean off her brain, but when the moment finally arrived and she stared at her down the barrel of her pistol, she couldn’t find it in herself to do what she thought she wanted. Her finger twitched over the trigger for what felt like several lifetimes as the girl she thought she hated so violently trembled in that bathtub, choking on tears and begging her to not be sorry.

Maybe that’s why she couldn’t do it - not because Darlene tried to butter her up beforehand by reminding her of the night they spent together, but because she said that she understood why she had to do it. The palpable fear in her eyes and the anguish in her expression were clear, but the way she kept insisting that she shouldn’t be sorry, that she understood why she had to do this, was what prevented her from doing the unthinkable. There was a hesitant acceptance to her quivering tone, like she knew what was coming and she exhausted every attempt to stop it from happening, so the only choice she had left was to face it. It was that moment of clarity, when she looked straight into Darlene’s wide, pale blue eyes and saw it - _It’s okay, I won’t hold this against you, I understand -_ that she realized this wasn’t what she wanted all along.

And now she’s peacefully dozing underneath her, her ribcage slowly contracting and expanding with deep breaths. Dom gazes at her and she can’t fathom how she ever wanted to see her suffer in the first place. How could she have wanted something so terrible for someone who means so much to her now? How could she have ever thought that seeing her in pain would make her happy? It’s abhorrent; it leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

She thinks about the time she smashed her gun into her skull and her chest caves in. She remembers the instant regret, the deafening ache roaring in the dead centre of her chest when her eyes laid upon the open wound soaking her brown tresses. She spent so many months wanting this to happen, yearning to inflict the same kind of pain she did on her, and now that she finally got what she thought she wanted, she hopes it never happens again.

Hurting Darlene and seeing her hurt - physically and emotionally - brought on a kind of pain Dom never felt before, something that ran much deeper than a pistol to the head or a knife to the chest. She felt that pain again just a few days ago when Darlene tearfully confronted her about the late nights she’s been spending at work, and it reminded her of how much she hated seeing her like this. It was a wake up call she desperately needed, but she detests needing it in the first place. Maybe she had grown too comfortable. Maybe she got cocky. After everything that happened last year, she didn’t think things could get any worse. The worst _already_ happened, or at least she thought it did.

Maybe the fight they had a few days ago wasn’t as dramatic as getting stabbed in the lung, but it still hurt like hell. Darlene was right - the whole point of that surprise trip to Budapest and the whole point of this entire year was to shed the _sad workaholic with no life outside her job_ persona she grew so comfortable wearing for the past several years. She doesn’t need to be that person anymore. She _isn’t_ that person anymore. She has a life outside her job now, and most importantly she has someone who loves her enough to call her out on her bullshit and remind her to take a break every now and then. She’s ashamed that something as trivial as a new case at work made her forget about that.

Her heart swells for Darlene as she lowers herself on top of her and presses her nose into her shoulder. Dom closes her eyes as she breathes her in, allowing herself to be engulfed by her, to drown in her. All those nights she wasted glaring at her laptop with her hand down her shorts, thinking she wanted the complete opposite of this - it boggles her mind. There’s nothing else she would rather be doing. If she could, she’d spend every morning for the rest of her life like this. She wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

There’s a soft rumble in Darlene’s chest as she hums, and she lowers her hand to thread her fingers through Dom’s red hair. “Is Tiny Tim bored of the pretty snowflakes?” This girl could be talking about the most fascinating subject in the world, but her languid, dragging tone of voice will always make her sound indifferent. To Dom, it’s actually kind of sexy; it’s a husky, grainy growl, and it’s especially sexy first thing in the morning when she’s still trying to shake off the fatigue.

“We have to get up soon.” She reminds her, turning her head so her lips are aligned with her jawline. She punctuates each word with a kiss, trailing from her ear towards her chin. “Traffic’s - gonna - be - hell - in - this - weather.”

“Ugh.” Darlene shifts, preparing to sit up. “Fine.”

“Hold on.” Dom chuckles, pressing her full weight on her so that she stays lying flat. “I didn’t say we have to get up _now_.”

“Then why did you make it sound that way?” Darlene throws her head back against the pillow, huffing in frustration. “Let me sleep, woman.”

The redhead laughs again, pulling away just a bit and supporting her weight with her palms pressed on the mattress above Darlene’s shoulders. Her hair is splayed all over the pillow in soft brown waves, and her long, dark eyelashes nearly brush her cheekbones. She’s wearing the shirt Dom had on last night at Elliot’s, that one light blue and white striped button-up she loves so much for some reason; the top button is undone and the collar is pulled to the side, showing off her collarbone and part of her bare shoulder, and the hem is bunched up around her hips, teasing lacy black underwear.

She’s embarrassed to admit that she denied her attraction to Darlene up until very recently, specifically when she got back from her trip and they decided to give this a second try. Dom initially tried to play it off as a fleeting infatuation that was solely fuelled by her loneliness; before Darlene, it had been such a pathetically long time since she was with someone, even in the platonic sense. She buried herself in her work for so many years that she honestly forgot how nice it was to have a genuine connection with someone, to actually sit down and talk with them and spend time getting to know each other better.

Of course, it didn’t start off that way. In the beginning, Darlene was nothing more than a suspect, a piece in the gigantic jigsaw puzzle that was fsociety, and she desperately wanted to know where she fit into all of that. She tried to think of the exact moment when things between them started to shift, but it’s difficult to pinpoint. She suspects it started the first time they met at that bar, when Darlene forced her to answer questions about her lack of a love life, but for some reason she thinks it may have started earlier. Maybe it was during that one night when Darlene called her out of the blue, fresh out of a panic attack and begging for her to come and save her from the Dark Army. Maybe it was during those long hours she spent in the safe house watching Darlene through cameras, unknowingly learning more about her through her body language: Darlene paces and chain smokes when she’s anxious, Darlene forgets to eat when she’s depressed, Darlene cries herself to sleep more often than she’ll ever admit. Maybe it was that night in the interrogation room where they had their first conversation and Dom instantly felt like she was meant to know this girl, like this isn’t just a matter of an agent interviewing her suspect, and that this interrogation was just a prelude to a bigger, more complicated story. Or maybe it was all the way back to the very beginning when she was first assigned to this case and she discovered Darlene through hours of painstaking research. She vaguely remembers looking at a photo of her for the first time and she felt something ignite inside of her, a nagging whisper at the back of her head that gradually crescendoed as time stretched on: _She’s not just a suspect. She’s going to mean something to you someday. This is just the beginning._

Dom’s not entirely sure if that first night they spent together was the biggest mistake she’s ever made or the world’s greatest happy accident. In the moment, it definitely felt like the former. She was stupid to think that someone like Darlene would ever genuinely like her and want to be around her. Her loneliness and desperation for human connection got the best of her that night and she paid a hefty price for it - and yet, for some reason, she _still_ couldn’t let go of her. Darlene did the absolute worst to her; she hurt her in ways she never even thought she could get hurt, but instead of doing the right thing and letting go of her forever so she can move on with her life, she does the exact opposite. She’s a sad person who wants to hold onto these terrible memories because it’s the closest thing she has to having a life outside of her job.

Perhaps the most pathetic part about her being in denial was after the incident with Irving but before the incident with Janice. That was when her denial - and stupidity - was at an all time high. She hated Darlene so much that it physically hurt to think about her. At first she used to spend an obscene amount of time thinking up of imaginary scenarios in her head, all of the figurative ways karma would have its way with her after everything she did - but then, at some point, those scenarios mutated from vengeful to risqué. She can clearly recall the first time it happened: She was lying in bed, struggling to sleep as usual, when she suddenly wondered what would happen if Darlene just showed up right then and there. Would she be apologetic? Would she regret everything? Would she beg for forgiveness? What would Dom do about it? How would she react?

And then Dom realized that it didn’t really matter how she would react, because she already knew. If this hypothetical situation ever happened and Darlene did show up at her apartment in the middle of the night, the first thing she’d do after glaring at her and demanding to know why she had the audacity to show her beautiful, infuriating face after everything that happened between them, is shove her against the closest wall. She’d run her hands under her shirt and drag her nails against her flesh. She’d bite down on her neck, her shoulder, her bottom lip until her skin was stained with bruises. She’d pull on her hair until she gasped. She’d tear her clothes off and toss them on the floor.

To be honest, it started out as a way to distract her from the harrowing paranoia that plagued her throughout most of the day. She was desperate for a distraction and she was willing to take whatever she could get, even if that meant she had to fantasize about the one person she hated more than anything she’s ever hated in her entire life - but then one fantasy turned into two, then three. Five. Sixteen. Forty-six.

It was happening so often that she felt compelled to take copies of their second interrogation home so she can have the memory of Darlene’s face fresh in her brain. She needed to memorize her, the way her eyes shift when she’s thinking really hard, the way she licks her lips right before she’s about to say something, the way she gazes at her beneath those impossibly long eyelashes and somehow manages to break down every single defence Dom had spent so many years trying to reinforce. She has every single frame from those videos burned into her brain. Maybe it turned into an addiction at some point. Maybe she just kept doing it because the distraction was good in the moment; it gave her a serotonin boost and it would be just enough to get her through the rest of the night before the paranoia seeped in again - but of course, she’s only kidding herself. She knows the _real_ reason why she kept doing it - or, well, at least she knows _now._

Dom always knew that her attraction to Darlene was always more than just physical, but she never really understood the full extent of that attraction until after she came back from Europe. There’s a tenacity to her that Dom always admired; Darlene never goes down without a fight and she will go at it with every last bit she has. She’s constantly in survival mode, using anger and sarcasm as a front so people won’t get too close. Dom thinks that’s one of the reasons why they understand each other so well, because she does the same thing. She uses work as a deterrent, an excuse to keep people away. They hold the same conflicting fear: Being alone, but also not wanting others to get too close. They simultaneously want to hide and expose their vulnerabilities. Maybe that mutual conflict was what drew her to Darlene in the first place. She saw herself in her, so maybe she thought there was a possibility that she may have found someone she could really connect with - and she ended up being right eventually, but it took a hell of a lot of pain to get there. It all ended up being worth it in the end, though.

With Darlene, she found out that she was capable of hating someone so violently that it mutated her into something she absolutely despised - but, at the same time, Darlene also helped her realize that she was capable of loving someone so fiercely that it changed her for the better.

And the best part is that she’s hers now - _all_ hers, and the thought of that excites her in every way imaginable.

Dom’s eyes sweep over Darlene’s sleeping, barely covered up form a second time, and she decides right then and there that this morning is _not_ going to waste.

She leans in again, kissing the skin where her neck meets her shoulder. Her hands slowly ghost the insides of Darlene’s bare thighs, teasing at the sensitive skin with her fingertips, and she smirks when she hears Darlene suck in a sharp breath. She kisses her neck again as her hands inch higher and higher.

Darlene, fully attentive now, opens her eyes and gasps when she feels the redhead’s teeth graze her neck. “If this was what you were implying all along, you should’ve said so sooner.”

Dom raises her head so she can finally kiss her. Her fingers tease along her midriff, and she simpers against Darlene’s mouth when she hears a strained groan from her end. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“J-Jesus, Dom.” Darlene hisses, arching her back slightly when she feels one of Dom’s hands grasp her thigh, pushing her further into the mattress. “Quit teasing already.”

Dom shakes her head. The hand not holding her thigh is toying with the waistband of her underwear. “You need to stop being so impatient.”

“Are you seriously expecting me to be patient right now?” Darlene growls as she relinquishes her hold on Dom’s shirt so she grab the redhead’s face with both hands, aggressively pulling her down for another kiss. The only reason why they break apart seconds later is because they need to come up for air. Their foreheads are pressed together and they’re both breathing hard and fast; Darlene’s hands are still holding Dom’s head in place, and her pupils are blown to the point where her eyes are more black than blue.

“Merry fucking Christmas.” Darlene’s out of breath, and her voice is huskier than it normally is.

They share a round of soft, hushed laughter, and then they sink into the bed together as they finally let the magic of the morning take over.

* * *

Spending the night at her parents’ place for Christmas is tons easier than Thanksgiving. There’s a discernible difference to the overall mood this time around; Dom can see it in Darlene’s body language and she can hear it when she speaks. She no longer has to bear the weight of a terrible secret, and it shows. Who knew that being open and honest with each other would do incredible things in the long run? Don’t get her wrong - she’s still mad about what happened, but now there’s an easiness to their relationship that she hasn’t felt before, and it’s nice. It feels like things are finally where they should be.

On the cab ride to Philadelphia, Darlene isn’t vibrating with anxiety like she was a month ago. She spends the majority of the drive animatedly chewing on Sour Patch Kids and drilling Dom with round after round of Which Would You Choose. It makes the hours fly by.

When they finally arrive in the early afternoon, Darlene hops out of the car first, and she practically drags Dom to the front steps. Trudie flings the door open, eyes alight and arms spread wide, and Dom is pleasantly surprised when Darlene eagerly steps into her embrace. Her eyes bulge a little when Trudie crushes her against her chest, but aside from that she looks like she’s genuinely happy to be back. Darlene finally meets her father - a stout former college tight end with a flat top, impossibly large hands, and Dom’s steely grey-blue eyes - and they hit it off instantly with their mutual love for Bryan Adams (“You love Bryan Adams?”; “I went through a phase in high school.”; “Who the hell goes through a Bryan Adams phase in _this_ day and age?”; “Shut up, Dom.”).

Christmas dinner is so much more enjoyable now that Darlene doesn’t feel like she’s walking on eggshells. She further surprises Dom when she enthusiastically engages in conversation with her brothers, dropping stupid jokes about her own brother and the FBI, and when Jerry and Joseph laugh along and clink their beer bottles with hers, Dom can’t help but feel a warm sense of pride swelling inside of her. Trudie and her father plow on with more personal questions, and Darlene seamlessly fudges her answers with gusto, harping about her made up job at Steel Mountain and all of the imaginary coworkers who annoy her on a daily basis. She even dives into an anecdote about her boss getting drunk during a client lunch, and she speaks with such confidence and fluidity that even Dom finds herself wondering whether it’s real or not.

They exchange gifts after dessert (Dom successfully managed to stow away the last slice of pecan pie for Elliot and she’s pretty damn proud of it), and that’s when Dom sees Darlene stumble for the first time that day. Her brothers went halfsies and got her and Elliot an original VHS copy of The Careful Massacre of the Bourgeoise, her grandmother knitted her a sweater, and her parents surprise her with a leather RFID-blocking laptop sleeve. When Darlene laments she didn’t get anything for anyone in return, she’s nearly knocked off balance when her entire family insists that they never expected anything from her, and that they just wanted to give her a nice, normal family Christmas after everything that happened to her and her brother. There was a moment where Dom swore Darlene was going to break down in tears, but of course that doesn’t end up happening, and the rest of the day carries on peacefully with loads of laughter and lighthearted conversation. This is the way Thanksgiving should have been, but maybe it needed to be terrible in order for things to turn out okay in the end. That’s sort of been an overarching theme for the past year, anyway.

When they settle into bed for the night Dom can’t help but think about how close to perfect everything is and how there’s something odd about that. She gazes down at Darlene, fast asleep in her arms, and she’s still finding it difficult to believe that this is where they are now, that all of the suffering and pain they’ve gone through in the past year led to this very moment. Is this real? What if this is just some kind of hallucination brought on by the severe blood loss from the punctured lung she received last Christmas, and she’s actually still bleeding out on the floor of Angela’s apartment?

No, she has to stop thinking like that. She has to stop asking the same questions over and over again. This is real. Of course it’s real. There isn’t any evidence to suggest otherwise.

Dom presses her face into Darlene’s hair and closes her eyes. She notes how their bodies are fitted against each other, how she can feel her heartbeat gently thudding against her palm. She listens to her breathe, slow and deep. She grazes Darlene’s forearm and thinks about how soft and warm she feels beneath her fingertips.

Darlene suddenly speaks up, yanking Dom out of her thoughts. Her eyes are still closed, and her words are dragging with fatigue. “Why are you watching me sleep?” She breathes in before slowly rolling around in the redhead’s arms so that she’s facing her, and then she buries her face into her neck. “Perv.”

Dom rolls her eyes. If anything, that was rock solid proof that Darlene is one hundred percent real. She tightens her arms around her, breathing her in before finally allowing herself to fall asleep.

If she’s real, then everything else must be real too.

* * *

Things may be _close_ to perfect now, but it’s not _actually_ perfect.

Dom suddenly wakes up in the middle of the night to the sound of Darlene hyperventilating. She quickly flips on the lamp sitting on the nightstand, and she bolts upward when she finds Darlene sitting next to her with her elbows resting on shaky knees and her face buried in clawed hands.

“Hey.” The redhead slowly pulls her hands away, gingerly massaging her palms as a nonverbal reminder to relax her fingers. “Darlene.” She places one hand on her cheek, gently turning her head so that they’re facing each other. Darlene’s face is streaked with tears and she’s trying to breathe through her mouth but it doesn’t seem to be working. “Look at me.”

Darlene struggles to come up with a reply, but Dom gently hushes her. “It’s gonna be okay.” They finally make eye contact; the fear in Darlene’s stare threatens to crush Dom’s heart to pieces, but she stands her ground. “Can you look around the room and tell me what you see?”

It takes awhile, but Darlene is eventually able to comply. Her pale eyes search the room, and within seconds she’s able to utter a short list, though her voice is straggled and wispy. “I...I s-see a lamp, a-and a chair.”

“Good.” Dom presses her lips to her forehead, murmuring against her damp, pallid skin. “What else do you see?”

Darlene’s breath catches in her throat, wheezing as she turns her head and tries to do what Dom’s asking of her. “Your b...b-bag. A desk. Y-your stu...stupid trophies from...high sc-school.”

The redhead chuckles, slipping an arm around her waist. She uses her other hand to rub slow circles on Darlene’s chest. “You’re doing great, hon. Tell me more.”

Darlene somehow manages to find the strength to glare up at her. “Don’t c-call me hon, asshole.”

“Well, if you’re cussing me out, that must be a sign you’re getting better.” Dom laughs again when Darlene rolls her eyes, and she kisses her forehead a second time. “Okay, keep going. What else is in the room?”

“A b-bed. A...a window. Y-your...CDs.” Her shoulders gradually stop heaving, and it becomes easier for her to speak without gasping in between words. “My bag. The sweater your grandma made for me.”

“It’s a nice sweater.” Dom points out, nodding at the neatly knitted burgundy jumper tossed over the papasan chair. She continues to rub Darlene’s chest with her palm, smiling serenely. “How are you feeling?”

Darlene places a hand over hers, squeezing gratefully. “Better.”

Dom uses the arm that’s already curled around her to pull her closer, sinking towards the mattress so that they’re lying down. “What happened?”

Darlene shifts around in Dom’s arms, mumbling into her shirt. “A bad dream, I guess. Haven’t had one of those in awhile. It’s a Christmas miracle.”

Dom brushes some stray strands of brown hair away from her face. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Darlene clears her throat, pausing briefly to wipe the last bit of tears clinging to her cheeks. “I had a dream where we were doing exactly what we were doing a few hours ago. We were having dinner with your family, and it was completely normal. Everyone was talking and laughing, and it felt nice. I’ve never had a Christmas like that before.” A dark, quiet chuckle passes through her lips. “One year, my dad made a joke about the roast being too dry, and my mom didn’t like that at all, so she force fed some to Elliot and me to prove to him that it was still edible. Elliot took it like a champ, but me being the problem child of the family, I spat it out. She pulled me by my hair and shoved me to the ground. She wouldn’t stop screaming at me.”

It’s great that Darlene finally feels comfortable enough to talk about her harrowing childhood, but it’s never easy to listen to. Dom squeezes her waist, non-verbally persuading her to continue.

“Anyways, we were having dinner, and then I suddenly... _wake up._ But I wasn’t here; I was in Angela’s apartment, and you were still lying on the ground, bleeding with a hole in your fucking chest.” Her voice starts to waver again as the tears make their way back. “Shit changed again, and I was in the middle of nowhere and you were telling me how terrible of a person I was and that I only deserved agony for the rest of my life. And then it went back further until I was with Angela, watching her go through her breakdown all over again, then seconds later I was at that diner with Cisco’s blood everywhere. It just kept going backwards, and I was experiencing every single shitty thing that ever happened to me a second time. It went all the way back to when...” Darlene sniffles. “To when we were kids and Elliot jumped out of his window.”

Dom furrows her brow. “Why did he do that?”

“We built a snowman in our front yard one day and we wanted to take a photo of it, so we ran inside the house to look for a camera.” She sniffles again and tightens her arms around the redhead. “We were in Elliot’s room when we heard our dad coming, and he just started freaking out. He hid me in his closet just as he came in. I heard a lot of yelling, and when I peeked I saw my brother swinging a baseball bat at our dad. I was so scared that I stayed in the closet for the rest of the day; I didn’t come out until they came back from the hospital. Our stupid fucking parents didn’t even ask where I was. I don’t even think they noticed I was gone.” She heaves a sigh. “I didn’t know why my brother did what he did back then, but I do now.” She swallows hard as the tears start to fall. “He was trying to get him to stay away so that he wouldn’t hurt me. Elliot thought he was going to do...something bad, so he hid me away and used himself as a distraction. He jumped out the window because he felt like he had no other way to escape. He fell all the way from the second floor and broke his arm just to keep the both of us safe. If he didn’t do it, if he didn’t jump...” She shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut and choking on a sob. She can’t complete her sentence, and Dom doesn’t really want or need her to.

She cradles her as she cries into her shoulder. She wants to say something, anything, but what is there to say? There’s nothing in her vocabulary that can soften a memory as terrible as that one. Dom could just rehash one of the countless pep talks she’s given to her before. She could tell her that setbacks like these are normal, and that she shouldn’t expect herself to bounce back so quickly after everything that’s happened. She could go on about how she knows she been making progress, how she’s proud of her, how things will eventually turn out okay - but she doesn’t want to spew the same spiel over and over again, even though she means every word. The year is almost ending; she should try out some new material.

“You know,” Dom pulls back a bit so she can brush Darlene’s tears away. “Every time I see you like this, it makes me wish I was smart enough to come up with something that would magically make everything better. I think it would be really insightful and profound, like something you’d find in those self-help books.”

Darlene scoffs. “Those books are bullshit.”

The redhead chuckles. “Yeah, they are. I tried listening to an audiobook about social anxiety once. It just made me laugh for an hour.” A lightbulb goes off in her head, and her expression brightens. “Hey, maybe that’s what you should do the next time you have a panic attack - just throw one of those on, and you’ll laugh your way out of your anxiety.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Darlene shakes her head as she laughs, and Dom grins. There's absolutely nothing in this world that feels better than making Darlene laugh after a panic attack.

“I dunno, it worked for me.” The redhead shrugs. “Actually, I think I’m cured.”

“You and Elliot were late to a conference call at work once because neither of you wanted to talk on the phone.” Darlene deadpans.

“We could’ve easily communicated over email.” Dom counters. “It wasn’t urgent enough to justify talking on the phone.”

“Whatever.” Darlene rolls her eyes, and when Dom laughs again she can’t help but join in. When they settle down, Darlene angles her head upward to nudge Dom’s jaw with the tip of her nose. The redhead dips downward, and they share a kiss. After a few seconds, Darlene draws back and raises one hand to rest it against the side of Dom’s head. “For the record, you _always_ make everything better.” She leans in to kiss her again. “Thank you. I mean it.”

Dom can feel her face burning with embarrassment. “Don’t mention it.”

“It’s worth mentioning.” Darlene insists, ducking under Dom’s chin as she nestles closer. “You really need to stop selling yourself short. Just admit you love me unconditionally and would stop at nothing to make me happy already.”

“Wow, okay.” Dom splutters with laughter as her blush worsens. “That’s a loaded statement if I ever heard one.”

“Am I wrong?” She can hear the smirk in Darlene’s voice, and her face is suddenly ten degrees hotter.

“Someone’s confident tonight.” Dom mumbles.

Darlene fits her head into the curve of Dom’s neck, huffing indignantly. “You aren’t denying it.”

“I never said you were wrong.” The redhead mutters as Darlene snuggles closer. “As great as things are right now, I kind of miss the days when you hated everything.”

“I still hate everything.” Darlene’s voice is muffled against her skin. “Except for you.”

Dom snorts. “You tell me you hate me on a daily basis.”

“Well, I only mean it half the time.” There’s a short pause. “I love you, Dom. I really do.”

Her whole body feels like it’s about to spontaneously combust, but she holds her composure by sucking in a breath before moving in to press a kiss against Darlene’s forehead. “I love you too, Darlene. You’re right about what you said earlier. I just want you to be happy.”

“And you make me happiest,” Darlene yawns. “So don’t you go anywhere.”

Dom swallows hard, but it does little to soothe the burning on her face, her neck, everywhere. She’s surprised Darlene hasn’t made a quip about it, but that’s probably a good thing. She can’t take any more embarrassment for one night.

“I won’t.” She can feel fatigue starting to settle in, and she sighs before momentarily pulling away to turn off the lamp on the nightstand. Sleep quickly takes over, and the both of them are able to get through the night without further interruption.

Things aren’t perfect, and they probably won’t ever be, but damn it - she wants nothing more than to try to make it as close to perfect as she possibly can for her.

* * *

When the cab drops them off at Elliot and Darlene’s building the next afternoon, the first thing Dom does is whip out her phone and send Elliot a quick text.

_We’re here. Is everything good to go?_

She glances upward, watching Darlene pull her bag out of the trunk. Her phone buzzes and her attention drops to her screen.

_You’re back already?_

Her eyes widen with panic.

_…So, it’s_ not _ready?_

“Dom,” The redhead looks up; Darlene’s already by the front door. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Sorry.” She mutters just as her phone vibrates again.

_Stall her. We just need a few more minutes._

Stalling is _not_ her forte, but it looks like she has no choice. The redhead swallows hard as she pulls her roller bag towards the front steps. “That was Elliot.”

She can see Darlene’s eyes narrowing into slits behind the tinted lenses of her sunglasses. “Elliot is texting you.”

It’s easy to tell when Darlene’s suspicious because her questions don’t sound like questions. “Yeah.” Dom shrugs, trying to keep a neutral face as she makes her way up the steps. “What about it?”

“Why is he texting you.” Again, there’s a lack of inflection.

“Is he not allowed to?” Dom laughs as Darlene wrenches the front door open. “He just asked if we could head to his place and take Flipper for a short walk. He had to run out real quick.”

“And he asked you.”

“Yup.” Dom closes the door behind her and follows Darlene up the stairs. She can see the tenseness in her shoulders, and it’s making her nervous.

When they finally reach the fourth floor, Dom notices with a panic that Darlene is heading towards her front door. She grabs her arm just as she’s about to reach into her jacket pocket for her keys, and she suppresses the urge to gulp when Darlene whips around to glare at her. “What are you-”

“He said that we need to take Flipper out now.” She jerks her head towards Elliot’s door. “So…we should probably do that.”

“Can’t we just drop our shit off first?” Darlene quirks an eyebrow. “We’re _right_ here.”

“Nah.” Dom shrugs as her hand jumps to her hair; the laugh that comes afterward is way too shaky to be believable. “I think we should see if Flipper’s okay.”

It’s Darlene’s turn to laugh. “Y’know, for someone who gets paid to figure out when people are lying, you’re _really_ bad at doing it yourself.” She swivels around on her heel and sticks her key into the lock. “What are you hiding, Dom?”

She lunges forward and yanks the key out, holding it above her head. “Nothing.”

“What the hell-” Darlene yelps, turning around again and stretching her arms upward in a feeble attempt to grab her keys back. “Do you think you’re being cute? Give it back, dickhead.”

Dom snorts; she isn’t even fully extending her arm, but the tips of Darlene’s fingers are barely grazing her wrist, and that’s only when she starts jumping. “You have to get them yourself.”

“Seriously?” She tries a different strategy by grabbing Dom’s sleeve and pulling her entire arm down, but when the redhead successfully fights her off she growls and shoves her against the wall next to her door. “Okay, we get it - you’re tall. Now give me my fucking keys.”

“Mm,” The redhead’s eyes dart up to the ceiling as she pretends to think about it, but they drop back to Darlene, who practically has steam blowing out of her ears. “Nah.”

“Holy shit.” Darlene looks like she’s on the verge of going feral. “You’re really starting to piss me off-”

She’s interrupted with the sound of Dom’s phone buzzing. She takes a startled step back as the redhead reaches into her pocket and pulls it out.

_We’re good. You guys are really loud._

And with that, Dom flashes an innocent grin and holds out her keys. “Here you go.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Darlene snatches them from her and jams the key into the lock, twisting the knob and shouldering her door open. “You guys better not be-”

“Surprise.” Elliot pipes up from somewhere behind her.

Darlene spins on her heel, fully prepared to bite her brother’s head off, but when she finally faces him and figures out why Dom was trying to stall her in the first place, she stumbles back and drops her bag, her eyebrows shooting high on her forehead.

The TV that used to sit on a stand by the wall opposite the couch is now mounted _on_ the wall. Beneath it is a long, large fish tank partially filled with water. The bottom of the tank is lined with a thin layer of gravel. There are a few plants scattered about, with a couple of stacks of rocks sticking out from the water’s surface - one in the far right corner of the tank, and another closer towards the middle. A lamp hovers over the tank; it’s shining directly on a tiny turtle, no bigger than two inches in length. It’s sunbathing on one of the rock stacks, its eyes closed in peaceful bliss.

Leon is sitting by the kitchen table reading the tank’s assembly manual. He raises his head in Dom’s direction and gives her a nod. “‘Sup, Jackie?”

An older man is sitting across Leon, holding a bottle of turtle pellets in one hand. He’s heavyset, with a grey moustache and thinning hair. “Merry Christmas.” He smiles sheepishly. “Or, well - Merry belated Christmas, I guess.”

“What the hell is all of this?” Darlene’s voice is strained and uncharacteristically quiet. She looks like she’s frozen on the spot.

Dom approaches her from behind and gingerly places her hands on Darlene’s shoulders. “We got you a gift.”

“Why?” Darlene is malfunctioning.

“Because it’s Christmas.” The redhead grins. “It was Elliot’s idea.”

The older man shakes the bottle of pellets. “She’s a red-eared s-”

“Red-eared slider.” Darlene finishes for him. She hesitantly steps towards the tank, crouching a little and placing her hands on her knees so she can take a closer look; she pulls off her heart-shaped sunglasses as the turtle shifts around on its rock perch. “Holy shit. How?”

Elliot rubs the back of his neck and gestures towards the kitchen table. “Bill knew where to get the turtle and all of the supplies. Then we got Leon to help with the setup.”

“Still think we shoulda got three more of them little dudes instead of just the one,” Leon shrugs. “But it ain’t my call.”

“Ninja Turtles?” Bill suggests.

“Like minds, man.” Leon leans back in his seat and nods in Bill’s direction. “Like minds.”

Darlene straightens up and shakes her head in disbelief just as Dom comes closer. “You guys really didn’t have to do any of this for me.” She lowers her head and laughs, shaking her head again. “You... _really_ didn’t have to.”

“We wanted to.” Dom assures her as she reaches for one of her hands. “You deserve it.”

Darlene looks like she’s about to say something about how she doesn’t deserve it, but Elliot cuts in just in the nick of time. “Dom’s right. Plus, you always wanted one. Figured it was a good time to make that happen.”

Darlene gawks at him for a second before engulfing him in a bear hug. He stiffens at first, caught off guard by the sudden, aggressive expression of affection, but his arms eventually find its way around her. She reaches out behind her a few seconds later, catching one of Dom’s sleeves; she pulls her in too, wrapping one arm around Dom’s waist while keeping the other around Elliot’s.

“Thank you.” She murmurs as she buries her face into the spot where Dom and Elliot’s shoulders are pressed up against each other. She quickly glances over her shoulder towards Leon and Bill. “All of you. You really shouldn’t have.”

Dom and Elliot exchange unsure, nervous glances, but their faces quickly relax and they both hug Darlene back. “Like Dom said,” Elliot throws her a small smile. “We wanted to. It’s no big deal, really.”

“Oh, it’s a pretty big fucking deal.” Darlene sniffles, releasing her hold on him so she can swipe at her eyes. ”I didn’t get you anything. I didn’t get any of you anything.”

Dom shakes her head. “It’s fine. We didn’t do this for you because we were expecting something in return.”

Elliot chuckles. “I guess Flipper has a friend now.”

Honestly, Dom is just relieved she didn’t ruin the surprise, but seeing Darlene’s brain implode because she didn’t know how to express herself properly was the most rewarding part. She kisses her on the forehead and throws her a smile. “Now you can finally stop pestering me and your brother about getting one.”

“You gotta feed her every day ‘cause she’s still little,” Bill adds. “But when she gets bigger - and trust me, she will - you can space it out to a couple days or so, or you can continue feeding her daily, just in smaller portions. It’s completely up to you.”

“Gotcha.” Darlene sniffles again and rubs at her eyes. She pulls away from Elliot, but keeps one arm around Dom and presses her cheek into her shoulder. “Alright, fuck it - drinks and pizza on me.”

“Nice.” Leon grins. “Y’all better like Hawaiian. Anyone who talks smack about pineapple on pizza ain’t no friend of mine, that’s for sure.”

* * *

It’s a very unlikely group of friends, but Dom’s used to the unlikely by now. She’s accepted that it’s pretty much been the defining word for her life recently, but as strange as it can get sometimes, she wouldn’t want it any other way. Unlikely is good. It keeps her on her toes, and more importantly it gives her hope for the future. She’s grown comfortable with not always knowing what’s next. She doesn’t always have to know exactly what to expect before jumping into something anymore. It’s nice to take a risk every once in awhile.

Elliot, Leon, and Bill leave when the sun goes down. After cleaning up in the kitchen, Dom joins Darlene by the tank. She’s sitting on the floor, gazing up at it like it’s the most amazing thing she’s ever seen; there’s a childlike wonder to her expression and it tugs at Dom’s heartstrings.

“Have you decided on a name yet?” Dom sinks to the floor next to her and crosses her legs.

“Annabel.” Darlene replies almost immediately. Her eyes are glued to the tank.

Dom wants to ask where the name came from, but she has a feeling she won’t get a straight answer, so she wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her close instead. Annabel is busy doing laps around the tank. “It suits her.”

Darlene sucks in a deep breath and holds it for a few seconds before slowly exhaling. “I hope you know that I really fucking love you. This is the best gift anyone’s ever given me.”

“I can’t take all the credit,” Dom throws her a sheepish grin. “But I love you too.” She leans in to kiss her; the one arm that’s already wrapped around her waist tugs her even closer, and Darlene lifts herself off the floor so she can sit on her lap. Dom’s eyes slowly close when she feels one of Darlene’s hands shift towards her hair; the redhead slips a hand beneath her black t-shirt, gliding across her skin with the tips of her fingers as she languidly slides her palm up her abdomen towards her chest, and when Darlene lets out a soft moan she grins against her mouth before moving in for another kiss. She pushes forward, forcing Darlene to fall back against the floor, but right before she comes in contact with the hardwood Dom quickly places her hand on the back of her head to cushion the impact.

“Mm,” Darlene’s voice is hoarse against the redhead’s mouth, “I guess chivalry isn’t dead after all.”

Dom rolls her eyes before capturing her lips with a third kiss; her hands find themselves beneath Darlene’s shirt again, pushing the hem higher and higher on her torso until the both of them decide that it might as well come off entirely. After helping Darlene pull her shirt over her head, Dom’s mouth deftly moves down her neck, pausing briefly to nip at her shoulder before traveling further downwards. She can feel Darlene’s hands grasping at her hair once she starts leaving kisses down her stomach, and when she stops at the waistband of her jeans she can hear her whining impatiently.

“I swear to God, Dom,” Darlene utters in between gasps, “If you stop now-”

The redhead’s brow crinkles with annoyance. “How many times do I have to tell you? You need to be-”

“Tell me to be patient one more time.” She lifts her head off the floor to glare at her. “I dare you.”

Dom stares back with the same level of ferocity; her mouth is slanted with a sly, shit-eating grin. “You need to be patient, Darlene.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Darlene huffs, bolting upward and shoving Dom to the floor before scrambling on top of her and straddling her hips. Dom laughs, and Darlene scowls at her before swooping down to silence her with an aggressive, sloppy kiss.

“Shut up.” Darlene growls as Dom continues to laugh in between kisses. She begins to fuss with the redhead’s belt. “I hate you. _So_ much.”

“No you don’t.” Dom laughs again, her hands firmly gripping Darlene’s hips. She squeezes before forcing her down, grinding their lower bodies together; Darlene goes limp at the sensation, rolling her eyes back and moaning into her ear, and the redhead takes advantage of this by flipping them over so that she’s on top once again. Darlene bites her bottom lip in excited anticipation as she watches Dom finally undo her jeans and pull them off, leaving her lying on the floor in her underwear.

Dom takes a second to eye her up and down, taking in every inch of her. The black lace on her bra and panties is a bold contrast to the smooth, creamy skin spread across the curves of her collarbone and the ridges of her ribcage. It’s embarrassing to admit, but her mouth starts to water a little; she swallows hard as she mentally prepares herself for what’s next. They’ve done this countless times, but she feels nervous for some reason and she doesn’t know why. Is it because she still can’t come to terms that this is their new normal? Is she still trying to accept that this is real, and this isn’t just another hate fantasy and she won’t wake up alone in her dark apartment with her hand down her shorts? Or is it because she can’t believe that the barely clothed woman lying down in front of her is all hers for good this time, and that they’re doing this simply because they enjoy doing it together, and not because one of them needs something from the other?

When Darlene notices her ogling, she raises her head and quirks an eyebrow. “Do you need to reboot or something? What the hell are you doing?”

Normally Dom would be annoyed at this, but she needed to hear it this time. The snark in Darlene’s tone is a _very_ clear indication that this is real, and it snaps her out of her reverie and jolts her back to reality.

“What did I say about being patient?” Dom shakes her head. Her hands find her underwear and she tugs down on the waistband, kissing lower and lower. When Dom finally removes it, she firmly grips Darlene’s thighs and pulls them apart before settling herself in between her legs. Darlene bunches up fistfuls of Dom’s red hair in her hands and throws her head back, squeezing her eyes shut and whimpering as she writhes under the redhead’s grasp. In the background, Annabel is crawling out of the water and making her way towards the rock perch at the furthest corner of her tank.

It wasn’t always like this. When they decided to give this a real shot and they weren’t sure what to call it yet, the sex was more aggressive, maybe even angrier. Dom assumes it’s due to all of the pent up frustration from being apart for so long, or maybe it’s the residue hatred she had for her when she inadvertently ruined her life. Whatever it was, Darlene didn’t complain about it; in fact, she was all for it. Maybe a part of her felt like she deserved to be thrown around a bit, or maybe it’s just what she’s into. Dom thinks it’s a little bit of both.

There wasn’t any conversation back then. They let their hands do the talking as they squeezed, grasped, and gripped until they left bruises. Hair was pulled until someone gasped. Teeth bit down on shallow skin, worrying at bone and flesh. Nails sliced in deep enough for blood to squeeze out. It was raw, it was hostile, it was _really_ fucking satisfying. Dom would never seriously hurt Darlene on purpose, and thankfully they never got to a point where it was too much for either of them, but in the early months of their relationship she took an obscene amount of pleasure out of tugging on those brown strands until her head snapped back. There was something so intoxicating about leaving her mark, whether it be with her hands or her mouth; she was never the possessive type in the past, but letting the world know Darlene was hers, _finally_ hers, with a bruise on the neck or a scratch mark on her shoulder blades excited her like no other - and apparently the feeling was mutual, because she’d wake up late the next day, trudge into the bathroom, and laugh at the bruises splattered across her neck and collarbone. She’d turn around, glance over her shoulder to stare into the mirror, and smirk at the angry red lines streaked all over her back. Every muscle in her body would be sore as hell and she’d have a headache from all the hair pulling, but she wouldn’t regret a single thing. She’d think about the dozens of times she made those pretty blue eyes roll back, the countless cries of relief that were so loud she’d have to clamp a hand over her mouth so they wouldn’t disturb the neighbours, and she’d be tempted to jump back into bed, wake her up, and start again.

As they eased into their relationship and each other, things gradually became less physical. Their banter somehow made its way into the bedroom; Dom has no idea how it started, and sometimes it drives her a little insane, but at the same time would it really be _them_ if they weren’t fighting in some shape or form? Maybe they started bickering in bed because they’re no longer physically fighting each other; the hair pulling isn’t as painful and the biting and scratching no longer draw blood, but there’s still a power struggle of some sort. Dom will happily admit that she purposely eggs Darlene on with accusations of being too impatient because it gets her riled up in ways she’s never been riled up before; there’s something about the way her eyes burn and the way she tries to bite back with that low, gruff growl of hers that makes her want to see how far she can push her - and sometimes she pushes her far enough where things become reminiscent of how it used to be before; the shoving, the pulling, the biting, the grasping would come back briefly, but the both of them would eventually settle down again and their movements would be slower, more calculated. There’s more thought put into every stroke, every kiss.

Some people might see it as plateauing or mellowing out, but Dom thinks it’s just a testament to how well they understand each other. They figured out how their bodies worked individually and together, and they learned each other’s limits. They knew what worked and what didn’t - and, as a result, their physical dynamic changed alongside their emotional one. At some point it became less about battling for dominance (At least in the physical sense) and more about enjoying each other’s company and making each other feel good, which is really what sex with someone you’re in love with should be all about anyway. It’s fun, it’s enjoyable, they don’t take it too seriously, and while it still can be very physical at times, there’s a warmth to it, a wholeness and deep intimacy that make her feel like she finally found the last piece of the puzzle. She looks at Darlene and thinks to herself, _This is it. This is who I’ve been looking for. I’m so glad I finally found you._

Before either of them know it, they collapse on the floor together, chests heaving, faces flushed, and their clothes scattered all around them.

“Okay,” Darlene laughs breathlessly as she raises a hand to rake her hair back. “I lied. _That_ was the best gift anyone’s ever given me. You can take all the damn credit you want.”

Dom grabs a couple of cushions and the fluffy grey throw from the couch so they can make themselves comfortable. She anxiously glances up at Annabel’s tank as she tosses the throw over the both of them. “I hope we didn’t traumatize her.”

“Oh, we definitely did,” Darlene tucks the ends of the throw into their sides before glancing over her bare shoulder to address her new pet. “But she’s gonna have to get used to it.”

Dom shakes her head as Darlene ducks under her arm and nestles closer to her. She can feel Darlene’s cheek pressed against her shoulder and her hand on her neck, her thumb slowly stroking the skin behind her ear.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Dom glances down at her. “What are you thinking about?”

A small smile curls the corners of Darlene’s mouth. “I’m glad you asked.”

Dom is immediately suspicious. “Why?”

“I’ve actually been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I’m pretty sure I’ve got it all figured out.”

“Figured what out?”

Darlene lifts her head off the redhead’s shoulder and pulls away a bit so she can make eye contact with her. “So, back in Boston, when Leon dropped us off at the airport, remember when he asked me if I wanted to join him?”

Dom furrows her brow. “As a freelancing gun for hire?”

“The freelancing part, not the gun part.” Darlene shrugs. “I never really gave him an answer, but I’ve been thinking about it ever since. I just…haven’t made a decision yet. Until now.”

“And your decision is…?”

“I think I want to do it,” Darlene breaks eye contact with her for a second, but when she lifts her head to address her again, her mouth is tilted in a mischievous smirk. “But don’t worry - there isn’t gonna be an fsociety 2.0 or anything.”

Dom laughs. “Well, that’s a relief.”

“The reason Elliot and I started fsociety in the first place was because he wanted to save the world.” Darlene shrugs again. “He kinda ended up doing it in the end, and it got me thinking that maybe...I dunno, maybe I can save it too, just in my own way. So I thought about how I can do that, and I came up with an idea.” She pauses to brush her hair away from her face. “There are thousands of assholes out there who use their phones and computers to prey on kids. They lure them in, groom them, and when they earn their trust they do the absolute worst to them. There’s a lot of pervs out there who do this for their own sick pleasure, but there’s also entire fucking _rings_ of these pervs who make a killing out of this shit. They make millions off of child porn and trafficking. Some of them run countries and conglomerates. They think they’re untouchable. It fucking disgusts me and I get so fucking pissed off every time I think about it.” Her hands curl into fists. “So, I think I want to do something about that. I don’t know what exactly, but I want to stop it somehow. I _need_ to stop it. I can identify these dicks and expose them. Bring down their organizations and make sure they don’t hurt anyone ever again.”

There’s an obvious personal connection that heavily influenced this decision. Dom can’t help but feel a little proud that Darlene is finally growing up and figuring out what her next course of action is, but there are a lot of logistics that need to be hammered out first. “If you’re so passionate about this, why not join the feds or Cyber Command? Don’t you think you’d be able to get some leverage if you’re working with the law?”

Darlene scoffs. “Reports of child abuse slip through the cracks all the fucking time, and some aren’t reported at all. Elliot and I are prime examples. I don’t want to go through office politics to help people. I want to do this my _own_ way, on my _own_ terms.”

Dom frowns. “But at least with the bureau there’ll be some kind of structure and stability.”

“I’ll make my own structure and stability.” Darlene counters. “Dude, I’d be my own boss. I won’t have to worry about whether or not someone’s gonna give me shit because there’s no one above me. Doesn’t that sound better than needing to report to someone all the time? I can work without having to go through the bureau. I create my own process, my own methods, whatever.”

She has a point there. “So, you’d kind of be like a private investigator.” She shakes her head. “Actually, no - a vigilante. So…basically what you were before, but with a different goal.”

“Sure.” Darlene smirks again. “You should do it with me. I think we’d make a pretty good team.”

Another good point. Darlene’s technical expertise and Dom’s experience with the bureau sound like an effective combination, and if she’s going to be brutally honest, the thought of working alongside her sounds like a dream, but... “The FBI isn’t perfect, but I think it’s where I need to be...at least for now.”

“Y’know what, you’re right.” Darlene laughs. “You’re the only government employee with a brain. They need you there.” She leans in again, touching her shoulder with her cheek. “Workplace relationships are usually frowned upon anyway.”

Dom rolls her eyes. “If you’re doing things on your own terms, I think we’d be able to look past the workplace relations rule.”

Darlene feigns surprise. “Dominique DiPierro… _ignoring_ the rules?” She gasps dramatically. “The scandal!”

“Shut up.” Dom laughs and leans in to silence Darlene’s own laughter with a kiss. When they break apart, Dom keeps her forehead pressed against hers. “Just...try not to do anything illegal. Please.”

“Oh, there will definitely be a few non-legal things happening here and there,” Darlene grins, and that grin only gets wider when the redhead sighs in resignation. “But I promise you there won’t be any murder. That, I can guarantee...maybe. I’d say seventy-five percent of the time.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” Dom frowns. “Can you at least cooperate with me and Elliot? If things get to be too much for you, you _have_ to contact the authorities. These rings and organizations are full of dangerous people, Darlene. Some of them are super powerful and well connected.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She replies dismissively. “You can swoop in and save the day if shit gets too hairy. I don’t care about taking credit. I just want to stop them.” She wraps an arm around Dom’s waist and nuzzles her head against her neck. “Anyways, I’m just mentioning all of this now because Leon asked me earlier if I put some thought into his previous offer. I didn’t tell him all of this yet, but I did say that I had something in mind, and I’d need his help to get started. We’re probably gonna go over the details soon.” She pauses for a few seconds. “I just wanted you to be the first to know.”

“I appreciate that.” Dom quickly kisses her on the forehead. “What about Elliot? Are you gonna tell him?”

“Eventually.” Darlene sighs. “I think I need to give it time. He’d probably want to join...but I can’t let him do that. He’s comfortable with the FBI and I don’t want him jeopardizing his position there. Plus, I think I need to do this on my own.”

“I understand.” Dom pulls her in closer and rests her chin on top of her head. She’s starting to feel a little ridiculous for ever hoping Darlene would change her mind and join Cyber Command. She would’ve never wanted that. She would never be happy there. They’d only hold her back. This feels right for her, even if there are some parts Dom doesn’t agree with. “I’ll be honest with you - the way you’re going about this isn’t ideal, but it’s something. It’s a start, and I support you.”

“I’d do it even if you didn’t support me anyway.” Darlene huffs, and Dom sighs. “Look, I know you said that I needed to stop with the heists and the hacks, chasing that high or whatever, and that I’ll have to settle down and be boring eventually, but…I can’t stop now. I know this is something I have to do.”

“I know.” Dom plants a kiss to the top of her head. “I think it’s great that you figured out what you want to do, and it’s admirable that you want to do this your own way, but I swear to God - if you blow up another power plant, or you break the economy again, or you start another cold war with China-”

“I don’t want to say any of that won’t happen for sure, because, I mean - anything is possible,” Darlene’s nonchalant tone forces Dom to roll her eyes. “But I guess I can try, for you.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” She dips her head to catch Darlene’s lips in another kiss.

Aside from the bubbling coming from Annabel’s tank filter, the room is coated in a cozy, tranquil silence. It’s a little warm in here, and the dim light coming from the floor lamp in the corner of the room is casting everything in a soft yellow glow. Darlene slowly breathes in, her eyes closed as she squeezes Dom’s waist. Her hand wanders over to the redhead’s chest, her fingers tracing the faint scar close towards the middle.

She does this often, usually in the aftermaths of nights like these. Dom still doesn’t fully understand why she does it; she presumes it’s a way to remind herself that the worst is truly behind them now, that they don’t have to fear for their safety anymore, and that Dom is here to stay and she isn’t going anywhere. It’s the most logical explanation, but for all she knows Darlene could be doing it for another reason.

Dom figures it doesn’t hurt to ask, so she opens her mouth to ask why, but then Darlene speaks up and partially answers her question with a question of her own.

“Do you still wonder if any of this is real?”

Dom immediately thinks back to an hour earlier when her clothes were still on, and then to last night when they were at her parents’ place. “Sometimes.” She pulls back a bit so she can smile at her. “But at the end of the day, I know it is.”

“How?” Darlene’s voice is soft; she sounds the same way she did when she discovered Annabel’s tank a few hours ago.

“Because I just do.” Dom raises a hand to tuck a strand of brown hair behind Darlene’s ear. “There’s a point where you just have to trust yourself. I know it’s easier said than done, but it’s all you can do.”

“I’m the last person I’d trust.” Darlene mutters.

“I trust you.” The redhead insists, and when Darlene looks like she’s about to say she shouldn’t, she continues. “I trust you _now._ There’s a difference.”

“You trusted me back then too, and look what happened after.” Darlene shakes her head.

“Well, the way I see it, we wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for that.” Dom shrugs. “Sure, it fucked the both of us up for months, but it was worth it in the end, right?”

Darlene rolls her eyes. “If you just went home with that blonde, or literally any of the other chicks I scoped out for you that night, none of that would’ve ever happened.”

“Wasn’t that part of your original plan? You were gonna distract me with some girl, and then you’d steal my badge - so no matter what ended up happening that night, you would’ve tried to take it anyway.” Dom points out. “And I told you - me and the blonde weren’t meant to be. I didn’t want her, or anyone else.” Dom pauses, her eyes drifting off to someplace else that isn’t anywhere around Darlene. “Maybe I just wanted you.”

Darlene raises an eyebrow. “Did you?”

“Maybe I didn’t know it at the time, but sure.” Dom smirks as she makes eye contact with her again. “I ended up bringing you home, didn’t I?”

“I am truly honoured to be your one night stand.” There’s a smug grin stretched wide across Darlene’s lips.

Dom rolls her eyes. “You’re obviously more than that now. How many nights has it been since then?”

_“More than that?”_ Darlene scoffs. “Seriously, Dom?”

The tips of her ears are starting to burn. “What?”

Darlene laughs incredulously. “It’s been months, and you _still_ can’t say it? We’re literally lying on the floor right now, post-fuck, butt ass naked, with the new pet turtle that you got me for Christmas watching over us, and she may or may not be scarred for life.”

“Say what?” Dom’s starting to look a little nervous.

There’s a mischievous grin spread wide across Darlene’s mouth as she lazily throws her arms around her neck. “C’mon.” She lowers her voice just a little bit so that Dom has to lean in to hear her properly. “Say it.”

Dom clearly knows what she wants her to say, but for some reason she continues to play dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She’s avoiding eye contact again and there’s a faint blush dusted across her cheeks.

Darlene frames Dom’s head with her hands and holds her in place so that she has no choice but to face her. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She inches forward just a little bit more so that the ends of their noses are touching. “I wanna hear you say it.”

Dom swallows hard, but she doesn’t move. She closes her eyes for a second, shaking her head and chuckling with mild amusement; once she opens her eyes, she mutters under her breath, “You’re my...” She defeatedly exhales through her nose. “Girlfriend.” Her face is nearly as red as her hair.

“Wow.” Darlene feigns offence, furrowing her brow and frowning. “You sound _so_ thrilled.”

“Ugh.” Dom bumps her forehead against hers. “Okay, fine. You’re my girlfriend. Are you happy now?”

Darlene grins. “Once more, but with feeling, please.”

Dom is suddenly overwhelmed with a burning desire to punch her in the face. “Are you being serious ri-”

“Yes, Dominique, I am being _very_ serious. Now, one more time.”

Dom leans back so she can heave a dramatic sigh, then she pulls herself back in, placing her hands on Darlene’s hips and tugging her close. “You’re my girlfriend.” There’s a small smile on her face, like she’s finally beginning to enjoy the way it sounds, and it makes Darlene smile too.

“Such a way with words.” Darlene laughs when Dom shakes her head again. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“I hate you.”

“What?” One of Darlene’s hands move to Dom’s hair, her fingers twisting around a few bright red strands. “You’re _my_ girlfriend, and I don’t look like I’m about to shit myself every time I say it.”

Dom’s face reddens significantly at _you’re my girlfriend._ “I don’t-”

“You’re totally fine with saying _I love you,_ but you short circuit when you try to call me your girlfriend?” Darlene laughs. “You truly are an enigma, Agent DiPierro.”

“Remind me why I ran through an airport with stitches in my lungs for you?” Dom mutters right before Darlene kisses her on the mouth.

“Because,” Darlene hums. “You wanted the girl, so you went to get her.”

“And I ended up going to Budapest without her.”

“Add a little bit of self-reflection, sprinkle a few panic attacks here and there, throw in some breaking and entering, fast forward three months later, and bam - mission accomplished.”

“Well, we had to have an awkward Thanksgiving dinner and a murder confession before the mission was actually accomplished,” Dom shrugs. “But we got there eventually, I guess.”

“Exactly. Some things just take time.” Darlene’s heavy-lidded eyes slide to a close as she moves closer. “Congratulations, you got the girl.” She kisses her a second time. “You got her good.”

There isn’t a single spot on Dom’s face that isn’t red. “I thought it was the other way around.”

“So did I.” Darlene rolls on top of her and presses her palms on either side of Dom’s head. There’s a brief pause before she speaks up again; her voice is soft, barely above a whisper.

“Grow up with me.”

The smile hovering over Darlene’s lips is timid, cautious; it’s not like her at all, but Dom knows why. There’s a weight to her words, a heavy implication towards something concrete, binding, maybe even everlasting. It’s a lot of commitment, which is what neither of them are accustomed to, and while the thought still kind of scares the shit out of her, Darlene makes Dom want to try anyway. Maybe forever doesn’t exist, but she would like to find out if it does, and right now there’s only one person she wants to explore that with.

Dom’s smile is radiant as she lifts a hand to tenderly cup Darlene’s cheek.

“I’d love to grow up with you.”

She gently pulls her down so they can kiss again.


End file.
